Jack Frost and the frozen veil
by Minkey222
Summary: Beneath the veil is a pair of milky white eyes. Beneath the veil is the truth. Who is Jack Frost? {Fem-Jack}
1. Chapter 1

**A little idea that escalated. I quite fancied practicing writing again. Ahah. enjoy.**

 **IDONTOWNRISEOFTHEGUARDIANS**

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 _They say those who lay their eyes upon the radiant daughter of winter, this frozen nymph are enthralled by her eternal beauty. So much so they fail to see the agony instilled by centuries of bitter loneliness and are unable to spot the salty tears that entwine with the crisp and graceful snowflakes, falling in an ethereal dance, cutting across her face. Freezing before falling; an icicle holding her memories._

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Who am I? Well, I'm Jack Frost. I know because the moon told me so. And my story? Well, you know my story all too well. You've heard it over and over again, haven't you? You've sung it, passed it down in bedtime stories, wrote it over and over again. 'You don't want Jack Frost nipping at your nose!' It's all a joke to you. But to me? Well to me, it's all too real. I lived it. And now I present to you the real story of Jack Frost, the harbinger of snow, the daughter of winter.

Falling gracefully to the floor, supported by the wind; a dance, if you will, She stops. Her face draped in a veil, covering her true identity. A radiant array of shining blues and iridescent purples, like freshly fallen snow, complemented by frost itself. Her eyes concealed by a hood, and even if you could see them, they were perpetually shut. Eyelids over blanked iris's. She moves one foot in front of the other, tendrils of ice spiraling out around her, a wooden crook trailed by her side. She's graceful, it's as obvious as the sun, no childish demeanor around her, as one might expect. No. No trace of the young child she once was, so full of life, joy, belief. Now her heart is almost as barren as a winter landscape. One place, however, there is still life, is where she keeps her love for the children. These children brought out the best in her, as timid as she was. And even for a time, she could forget she was invisible, a simple spirit.

She looked up, toward the twinkling stars and the bright moon, the very same one that had brought her back from the brink of death. Now you may ask yourself, 'how could the moon save someone from the brink of death?' or more importantly 'why were you on the brink of death, in the first place?' but I can't answer you yet, but I promise all will be shared in due time.

Pale fingers reached upwards, golden granules of dreams whisk around her hand. A beautiful image forms, a butterfly, single and cold, and more importantly, alive. A beautiful life created by her hand instead of being taken by her. She sighs once, a singular tear, frozen and as cold as she is, falls from her eye; a crystal. She walks on.

She hears it, disturbances in the wind. The wind itself noticed and pulls her further forward, wrapping itself around her, keeping her from danger. She hears it once more and races faster and faster. She must know. She must know what it is! She speeds, faster and faster until- She stops. Halted in her pursuit, she pulls her staff closer to her body, an inanimate hug. She peers around, frozen ferns form from her feet, a universal sign for 'beware!'.

A tap from behind her, she turns.

"Hello, mate" It talks, or more rather, he talks. 'He' being the Easter bunny. Her shoulders drop, unnoticeable to some, but he sees it. He continues.

"Long time no see" She doesn't respond. He continues still.

"Blizzard of '68, I believe," He speaks, his tone confusing her senses to who he actually is. She smirks at the thought.

"I can't believe you are still on the defense about that, Bunny. I told you, it was an accident" She speaks in her smooth, silken tone, it could be compared to a siren's call, but while a siren's call could drive a sailor to death, her voice could give the sailor dreams at the same time. She raises her hand in a placating manner.

"Yeah, you keep believing that, sheila. However, that's not why I paid you a visit." He explained, a smirk threatening to play on his lips. A mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Then tell me, you big kangaroo. Why did you grace me with your presence?" she asked, genuinely intrigued. She always wondered why he visited, it was always at the worst time.

"Oh, if I told you it would ruin the surprise. I just hope you don't get travel sick" He replied and backed away from the soon to be, incriminating place, the scene of the crime.

"What?" Was all she could make out before rough hands grabbed her each arm. Hauling her with preternatural strength, stuffing her into a bag. Hauling her through a small opening, her screams muffled by the fabric. Tears smothered as she clawed at the air, unable to draw in a breath, her eyes screwed tight. She couldn't breathe, tears came harder and faster. She had ceased her attempts to rip open her woven prison, and had taken to focusing on surviving, ripping at her face instead, any flesh bared, but it was easier said than done. She quickly lost control over her body and welcomed oblivion with open arms.

Being thrown onto the cold floor was not a welcome feeling. The disagreeable journey had eventually reached its end. This end, of course, involved dumping her to the floor of some unknown location. She reached out, slowly, in pain, self-inflicted welts on her face bleeding into the scarf turning it an uneasy brown colour, she was unable to find her crook and in giving up the fruitless search, decided to instead use the frost to see. Leave her hand to the floor, a thin layer of ice pattern covered all, she did not move once more. Now being able to see where she was she calmed considerably but still she did not yet move.

"Jack?" An unsure voice asks to the frozen nymph. She slowly moves her head to face the source of the voice, now unhooded, milky white, sightless iris's gaze upon jolly faces, soon shocked. She quickly realizes her mistake and hastily rectifies it, lifting her hood once more, covering her face, but all too late.

"Jack?" Another voice asks to the left of her. This question, a single worded sentence, meaning all, spoken in a maternal manner. She turns again, now almost sat upright; a fight with gravity.

"Tooth." A simple word, worth a thousand words, wheezed out; lack of breath, a remnant of the unpleasant journey. She feels small hands on her face and she leans into them, welcoming the touch; what seemed like a thousand years had gone by since she had last felt real touch, real interaction. Wet tears ripped her from her musings. She reaches her hands and dries the tears of her old friend. Now again you may be asking 'who is she? Who are all of them?' But I can truthfully tell you that during that moment I didn't know whom I was surrounded by, I only cared for the feelings of my friend. Now if you let me continue.

Broken once more from her revery another voice calls to her, one unrecognized and it appeared only she could hear it. Speaking in signs, spoken to those whom cannot see to read them. _Jack Frost, you're safe now. Open your eyes._ I refuse the offer. I can't open my eyes because opening my eyes makes everything real. She shakes herself. She asks for a name. _I am the sandman, the guardian of dreams. I am here to protect you, Jack._

"Sandy." She asks, scared and unknowing, uncertainty gripping to her chest, she focuses on her friends warm hands. He nods and she melts further, much alike snow, too close to a flame. She feels a presence behind her, _Bunnymund_ her mind provides. Her fear quickly turns to burning, indescribable anger.

"Is that what you call a joke, _Bunny_?" I murmur quietly. His name dripping with audible sarcasm. Her disdain for him obvious.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asks, confronted. She stands quickly, soon toe to toe with him, whipping out. Frost making her seem larger, more frightening. Her eyes snap open, white eyes meet brown.

"I SAID, IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL A JOKE, POOKA!" She shouts, wind whistling past her, chilling the already cold place, making it almost unbearable. He cowers in her presence and she quickly drops.

"Don't mess with things you don't understand, my friend..." She deflates.

 _What has become of me?_ She asks herself and soon her anger burns itself out, mellowing by the icy pang of excruciating sadness and tears later following. She drops her knees to the floor and she shortly finds herself in the arms of a man inexplicably large. She panics briefly but finds herself soon calming when the small sandman speaks to her once more. _His name is Santoff, or North, or more commonly known as Santa Clause. He will look after you. As the guardian of wonder, it's his duty to, young one._ I find myself relaxing into the touch once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Another short chapter for you.**

Chaos woke her once more, shouting distracted her from the peaceful slumber she so much enjoyed.

"It's Pitch, I'm sure, 'Feel it in belly!"

"Not the sleigh"

 _Where's Jack? She's a guardian to._

She couldn't make out each word, the noise scrambling together, like a solid ball of sound, bombarding her at every move. Someone enters the room she's in and she finds her crook placed on her lap.

 _Wake up, Jack. Your friend is in trouble._

She holds tighter onto the conduit and rose up once again, pleased to have her sight back. She leaves the room she's in, feather-light steps beneath her, like a silent snowfall. Ice chilling the ground, searching for any answers to what happened to her friend.

"Jack, you're back with us." North offers, she only half-hearts a smile.

"Would anybody like to explain to me what's happening?" She all but whispers. Her voice hoarse from her previous tears.

 _It's Tooth, Jack. Pitch attacked. We need to go help._

She just nodded in return.

"Thank you, Sandy. But who is Pitch?"

"Pitch Black, or Boogeyman. He is bad and wants only fear and now, he hurt Tooth." Norths speaks once again. She nods once more.

"Let's go then"

The ride to Tooth's palace was interesting, to say the least. The fastest way to get there was the sleigh, by North's recommendation. I found the commune rather soothing, but others, not so much. It's funny thinking back to that time. The calm before the storm. My first encounter with Pitch is not one I will forget for a long time. Pitch Black was not a nice man, he hurt a lot of people, for many reasons. He manipulated them, He attacked them and stole everything from them. Some people less lucky than others. I'll explain more when the time comes. For now, however, back to my encounter with Pitch. Where I last left off I was on the sleigh, I had just ungracefully landed it in Tooth's palace. All of her fairies and teeth were gone. You see, Tooth is the guardian of memories, without them kids loose their faith. We knew who took them and I think you do to.

"Pitch" North shouted out.

"I have to say, this is all very touching" His thick voice, sending shivers down her spine, reminding her too much of a time long forgotten.

"The four of you, in one place. I have to say, I'm starstruck." His laugh gagging her.

"Oh, and look. Little, old Jack Frost. Since when were you their friend, Jack? Have you been honest, _Jack_?" He asked, black shining in his eyes, like black holes eating all the light. She refused to give into him, she stayed silent. He snorted.

"A neutral party, I like it. I'd ignore you but everyone's already doing that." He glided forward, evading each and every attack thrown at him, he was untouchable and he knew it. He was an apparition after all.

"What do you want, Pitch?" Tooth shouted out into the growing shadow.

"I want what you have. I want to be believed in again." She took and involuntary step back. He couldn't know.

"Everythings about to change." A rumble sounded from within the shadow.

"Oh look. It's already started."

You may be asking yourself what was happening, what had Pitch done? Well, I'll spare you the details. Basically, a guardian protects the children and in return, the children believe in them. It's this belief that keeps them going. When Pitch took the fairies and the memories, the children, well they were waking up, realizing, the tooth fairy never came. They stopped believing and so Tooth was fading and so was her home. Our solution, however, was to collect the teeth ourselves. It turned into a game of sorts, but nonetheless, we collected them all. The children still believed for one more night. That was until we met a little boy. His name was Jamie. Jamie was special, is special. We left after that. Well, we tried to leave. Pitch attacked again.

Nightmares surrounded her, a whirling pool of death and darkness. All of their worst fears realized, and what was worse? It was just her and sandy. She didn't know where anybody else had gone, she was alone again. She attacked nightmare after nightmare. It did nothing until Pitch finally showed up.

"I'm sorry" he feigned innocence.

"You don't understand" He lied.

"Go on" He egged on Sandy and then in a swarm, Sandy was gone, stolen in a cloud of darkness. She flew as fast as the wind could carry her, firing her ice into the cascade of black, but it was all for naught. Sandy was gone. Her protector gone. She fell to the ground. She did not get back up.


	3. Chapter 3

**This one's a long one. Some Jack angst ahah. It's great, I love it. Enjoy!**

Sitting on the windowsill, isolated and alone; truly alone. She sat, hands resting upon the staff resting in her lap, _If only I had been faster, If only..._ Her mind whirled with the torture of _what if_ 's and _I should have_ 's. A continuous storm of thought bombarding her every move, every moment of consciousness. And when she wasn't conscious? Well her sleep was and uneasy mix of feared memories and harmful nightmares.

Her friends grieved for their fallen member. Another casualty in the world's worsts war. But none had been closer to the fallen hero than her. Even though she had only personally known him for less than a day, she had been the only one who had heard his voice, he had comforted her, talked to her, acknowledge her as a person rather than an 'it', like so many before him had done so. The sadness was suffocating, sticky and heavy, unpleasant to all, pardon a select few- Pitch would find the current situation invigorating, celebrating the death of a friend, because what was death to a man who feared nothing, cared for nothing. Whom thrived off of this overpowering feeling,- and she wanted out of it, to find reprieve of this cacophony and melancholy emotion. One of which she had never felt before in her short existence. Despite her 300 year age, she had never once had a _living_ friend, finding company in inanimate objects.

A dry laugh rises to her lips.

Really the action makes her want to break out into peals of laughter. Her self-defense; to laugh, to joke, to brush of the matter, to make light of it. She never imagined a situation such as the one she found herself in now, she could scarcely control the floods of tears –laughter- welling up inside of her. She didn't know what to do, so she did the only thing she could; she fled.

Searching for the bitter coldness; home sweet home. It engulfed her, cooling off her mind. Letting the sweet sting bring herself to the ground, making her forget the awful happenings and allowed her to relax, even for a moment, and when she found the moment had ceased, she stood. Holding her beloved hook close to her body, she raised up, lifted by the wind in an almost intimate embrace; comforting the slight child of winter. Carrying her back to home.

Now back to North's place, the remaining guardians were coming up with a plan to try and stay in the game long enough the fight- and defeat- Pitch. Considering Easter was almost there, Bunny had taken it upon himself to save everyone and promised to create the most spectacular Easter he could muster. I can hear you asking 'what?' and to be honest, I was thinking so myself, I mean really, putting all our faith in a bunch of hard boiled eggs. But thinking about it more, it begun to make sense, Bunny's the guardian of Hope, so honestly he was the best candidate for restoring the faith into the children, hope for the guardians that they held so dearly in their hearts. But things were not so clearly cut as that.

Entering the embodiment of spring was a change, to say the least, the winter spirit finding the mild heat scorching to her sensitive sense, but enduring the mild discomfort for the sake of her teammates.

A noise, a rustle if you will alert them to a presence and before they knew it they were all wielding their weapons against an unknown threat. Heart pressing again her ribcage, she found herself on a knife's edge, waiting for a rain of attacks to pour down on them. The presence moved-

It was a little girl, a one Sophie Bennett. She sighed at the welcome sight of the small child, so sweet, so innocent and untouched by Pitch's evil hands. Sophie quickly welcomed the task of helping Bunny create Easter and soon enough Easter was completed. Feeling a warm feeling blossoming in her chest, she sighed, smiled and sat down in the, now, pleasantly warm glass, running her hands through the soft blades.

"Who will take her home?" Tooth asked from beside her. She only responded with a hum of confusion. She looked up and smiled warmly at the sight of a sleeping Sophie, nestled in Bunny's soft arms.

"I will, o'course" Bunny volunteered and she felt a maternal feeling come over her. She didn't know why, but she soon offered to take her in Bunny's stead.

"No Bunny, I'll take her. I'll look after her, I promise." She smiled to prove her point and quickly found herself full of a sleeping child, cooing at the endearing sight, she left accompanied by a small tooth fairy, named 'Baby tooth', offered by Tooth as the small thing had quickly grown attached to her, the wind swiftly taking her to her desired destination. laying the child softly in her bed, she tucked her in, laid a kiss on her forehead and left instantly afterward.

Flying freely overhead of her hometown, hood shaking in the frosty winds, she heard a voice, faint, but she could make out the single word scream.

"JACK!" It called out, over and over again. She headed towards it, someone needed her, someone was calling her! The excitement and worried mingled until the two were inseparable and blurred all self-restraint, racing to find the source. Deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods, flying past dead oaks and withered shrubs. All signs of life gone. She continued. Finally reaching a deep gash in the earth and the voice appeared to be coming from within. Ignoring the small nagging of fear she broke in and fell down, landing in a heap at the bottom.

Searching around the darkened cave, she felt dread claw it's way up her back. There in thousands of cages were all the missing fairies. Deftly getting up, she hurried to help them all, opening as many as she could, she was disheartened to find out that they could no longer fly.

"JACK!" The voice called for her again, breaking her from her pool of misery. She scrambled down, finding the glinting gold memories. Her memories were somewhere buried beneath it all. She stopped her descent.

"What-" She stops in her question, brushing off the frantic chirping of her fairy friends.

"JACK! The voice calls to her again, still as urgent as it was before, from behind her. Slowly and cautiously she turned, knuckles white, gripping the crook, her lifeline.

"Are you looking for these, Jack?" He asks, voice venomous. Holding his hand outstretched to her, in his grasp is her little golden box containing memories, her memories. She didn't move, she didn't care for them, why would she want to see a miserable past, she had what she wanted now. Despite that the yearn to know, to understand, why was she this was, was strong. The answers were in front of her now, she could take them, leave. The guardians didn't need to know. She denied the want.

"No, Pitch. I don't want them, I don't want to remember. I'm not afraid of you." He withdraws his hand, disappearing into the shadows. She follows.

"No Jack you're not. But Jack, do you know what the best part of being the guardian of fear-" He starts but is cut off, a verbal knife thrown in his direction.

"There is _no_ guardian of fear," She says sharply. How _dare_ he imply that he was such! The guardians protect the children, not terrorise them! He continues, despite the interruption, ignoring the burning fury, starting an inferno inside of the winter child.

"-The guardian of fear is?" He asks rhetorically, finishing the question.

"It's that I know everybody's greatest fears, including yours. Oh, Jack. Your fear is so strong. Did you know that it was your fear that brought me back?" Pale hands cover her ears trying to block out the torrent of emotions.

"You're scared that they'll find out. That they'll find out about your fear, about _Him_. Oh yes, Jack. I know about _Him_." She finds she can't scream.

 **"Oh, Jack. Don't you know, no one will ever love you; winter kills, so do you. We can't have that; can we?"** An oh so familiar voice calls to her. Shivers cascade down her back. Ice piercing her, fire burning her, steel glinting under firelight. Memories come flooding back, she is powerless to stop the internal agony.

"You're scared they'll turn on you like _He_ did, and you'll never understand why. Moreover, you're scared you'll never be believed in. Little Jack Frost. No one cares about you, do they?"

He smirks, his evil intent clear as day, plastered across his face. "I guess we'll have to find out, won't we?"

"What have you done?" She gasps out, breathlessly.

"No, Jack. More to the point, what have you done?" The darkness melts around her, the light from the outside world blinding her. A weight in her lap and voice disembodied.

 _Happy Easter, Jack._


End file.
